The Survivor Returns
by BlueSpark96
Summary: Marasi and Wayne have unexpected encounters with a man who doesn't exactly act like what they assumed from history books.
1. Red Vest

**Author's Note: This is a random idea that popped into my head. It's actually a crossover between the first and second Mistborn trilogies. Enjoy!**

 **If you haven't actually read the Mistborn series, you can still read the first chapter. It's set after the second chapter, where Marasi first meets Kelsier. Please review!**

* * *

Marasi shifted in her seat, observing the people milling about in the seats in lower rows. Beside her, Steris was fixing her necklace and giving Marasi and Waxillium pointed lectures on what to do if a.) the stage caught on fire (grab a fire extinguisher) b.) a gang of bandits robbed the place (Wax said he had it covered) or c.) a large amount of rabbits fell from the ceiling (try to herd them out the exits, but remain calm). When Marasi, who had been checking the clock next to the stage every minute, informed her that she had to be backstage in 10 minutes, Steris gave Wax a quick peck on the cheek and whispered a few words in Marasi's ear. "It'll be beautiful." Then she left, walking down the aisle to the stage with a feminine grace that should have made Marasi jealous, but really didn't.

Marasi stifled a burst of laughter. Steris, singing something beautiful? That was about as likely as Wax going to a fancy party and not shooting anyone. (Or, even more unlikely, actually enjoying it.) She half expected Steris to walk onstage and start reciting a recipe for mashed potatoes.

Marasi and Wax sat in uncomfortable silence, watching as Steris disappeared through the doors to the left of the stage. After a few minutes, Marasi gave a halfhearted attempt at starting a conversation. "Do you know where Wayne went?"

Wax shook his head absentmindedly. "Probably to find something to drink. Or steal - I mean borrow. Or both." He didn't look very concerned, but Marasi noticed how his eyes were constantly scanning the crowd. _Good hiding place for assassins,_ she thought. Of course, that was probably what Wax thought about every place they visited. You didn't get to be a lawman in the Roughs without being overly cautious. In fact, he probably had a steel bubble up right now - and sure enough, Marasi's vials of cadmium were angling slightly to the left, away from Wax. As far as she knew, Wax was the only Coinshot who could generate a constant slight Push on every bit of metal around him. "It's easier to deflect a bullet if you know it's coming," Wax had said to Marasi once.

Wayne suddenly slid into the seat beside Marasi, causing her to jump. He was humming nonchalantly to himself. And he was wearing something new - a bloodred vest that she was pretty sure he didn't own. It looked familiar, somehow.

"Wayne," asked Marasi suspiciously, "where did you get that vest?"

"From that fellow over there," Wayne said, pointing.

Marasi looked. "Wayne! That 'fellow over there' is the Survivor! Don't tell me you stole a vest from the Survivor!"

"I didn't," Wayne proclaimed. "I borrowed it."

Marasi groaned.

"I gave him a vial o' bendalloy in place. Right fine trade. With this vest, I could get me thousands of vials o' bendalloy." He nodded self-importantly, buttoning the vest. It actually seemed to fit him pretty well. "Wish it were a hat, though."

"Did he know about this?"

Wayne nodded. "Yep. Seemed pretty interested in this stuff." He took a glass vial off his belt and waved it at Marasi. Inside, she could see bendalloy flakes whirling around, suspended in an alcohol solution.

 _Why would the Survivor want a vial of bendalloy?_ "Oh. That's nice," said Marasi lamely. Wax glanced over but didn't say anything.

"He had a nice accent too," Wayne continued. "Kinda old. Like, 'Why? It's just a vest.'" He said this in a passable impersonation of Kelsier's voice. "That ain't it. 'Why? It's just a vest.'" That one sounded a lot better - in fact, Marasi had to glance over to make sure Kelsier hadn't sidled up beside them while she wasn't looking. But no, it was just Wayne, looking pretty pleased with himself. "Maybe I'll be the Survivor someday," he said to Marasi.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed and the curtains opened. The show had begun.


	2. It Gets A Little Annoying After A While

**WARNING: Total spoiler alert for the first Mistborn trilogy!**

* * *

Marasi was just sitting down in the cafeteria, a small room with white and blue tiles on the floor and a few round tables, when it happened.

"Excuse me?" said a man behind Marasi, tapping her on the shoulder.

She whirled. "Yes? What-"

Then she froze. That face… she'd seen that face before. The sharp cheekbones. The long nose. His mouth was curved up in a smile, though, unlike the permanent scowl she'd always imagined. She estimated his age to be around 30. His hair was blond, his eyes a startling blue. But the things she'd noticed the most were the scars on his arms - long, angry, and red, although someone had tried to claw him over and over again.

Yes, Marasi knew where she'd seen that face before: on the statue in her church. It was Kelsier himself. The Survivor of Death.

"Hi," he said, as if he were her old friend and she hadn't been gaping at him like an idiot. "Are you using that chair?"

"You're -" Marasi knew she sounded crazy, but this was the _Survivor_ , for Harmony's sake. "You're alive!"

Kelsier sighed as if he'd heard that line far too often. "Yes, I've realized. And please don't go on about how 'The Survivor has returned! Let us rejoice! All must kneel before him!,' blah blah blah." He grinned at Marasi. "Don't get me wrong. I like being a religious figurehead. It just gets a little annoying after a while. So. About that chair?"

"Oh. Um. Sure. You can have it," said Marasi.

Kelsier smiled again. He did that a lot, Marasi noticed. "Thanks." He picked up the empty chair next to her and turned to go.

"Wait," Marasi called.

"What?"

"I -" Marasi found that she didn't know what to say. "I was just wondering why you didn't come back when the world ended," she blurted. "And why now?"

Kelsier frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Survivorism teachings always say that you'd come back in a blaze of glory to save the world and all of humankind. At least, that's what I've been taught." Marasi blushed. _I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation,_ she thought. _And totally blowing it._

Kelsier, to his credit, burst out laughing. "A blaze of glory, huh?" Marasi nodded. Kelsier set the chair down, turning back to her. "I guess I'll have to blame Spook for that one, although I've never really thought of him as having a flair for the dramatic." He paused, his laughter dying down a bit. "Wait. You're actually serious?" He sighed. "Well, that thing about not coming back when the world was ending? I did, at first. I took in the power of Preservation. But you probably know that already." He paused, staring out into nothing. "Thing is, I wasn't the right person for the job. Vin was. I gave her the power. I couldn't have done it myself."

Marasi must have looked shocked, because Kelsier smiled again. "I know. It's crazy, hearing your god admit his own inadequacies. How about this? I'm amazing. Better?"

"Sure," mumbled Marasi. Her brain still wasn't completely working properly.

"Great." Kelsier picked up the chair. "I'll be seeing you later, then?"

"Um… maybe?" Marasi managed. And with a cheery wave, Kelsier was gone.

 _That was… not what I expected,_ Marasi thought. She laughed out loud. _Wait until I tell my priest about this._


End file.
